


scream yourself a hurricane

by amandamonroe



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Gen, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 19:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20364121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandamonroe/pseuds/amandamonroe
Summary: In an au of 1.16, Flynn and Lucy are captured by Rittenhouse at the meet up. Cahill attempts to convince Lucy that Flynn is a double agent.Based on a prompt from @to-hell-with-oblivion on tumblr.





	scream yourself a hurricane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [newisalwaysbetter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/newisalwaysbetter/gifts).

> This is from a prompt that Blue gave me on tumblr:  
They're both being held captive by Rittenhouse, who are trying to brainwash/hurt Lucy. She's coerced into yelling for Flynn, because Rittenhouse wants her to lose faith in her team. Flynn is being held nearby, probably gagged so he can't call to her, forced to listen to Lucy scream for him so he knows she's losing faith, and can be broken by his own failure.
> 
> You can find me at @amandaflynns. This is my first work on ao3! Yay! Otherwise I've been writing shorter stuff on tumblr. This is posted there as well. Took my longer than I thought it would, but it's done. Hope you like it Blue!
> 
> The title of this is from "Earth" by Sleeping At Last.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of any recognizable content. I do not make any money from this. This is purely for fun.

As much as she wanted to, Lucy just couldn’t seem to stop screaming.

As she took a shaky breath, she heard a sigh from outside the closet door. “My dear I do wish you’d stop being quite so hysterical,” Benjamin Cahill said.

Hysterical. Hysterical?!

“You killed my friends!” Lucy wailed and rocked back and forth in the darkness.

“We both know that isn’t true. They were never your friends- simply pawns in a larger game. Much like Mason Industries was simply a tool that was no longer useful.”

Hearing the nonchalant way Cahill spoke of obliterating Mason Industries made Lucy almost bite through her lip in a an effort to hold back another moan of grief. She wished he was lying, wished it with all her battered heart. But Cahill had made a point to have her face the screens showing the feeds from the Rittenhouse agents’ body cams as they blew up the building- with all personnel still inside.

“Honestly, Lucy, I’m disappointed in you- consorting with a terrorist?” Cahill- because she couldn’t think of him as her father, she felt disgusted knowing they shared DNA- was still talking. And then what he was saying sank in.

Lucy stopped rocking. She whispered “What… what do you mean?” and hoped against all hopes… maybe, just maybe…

“Garcia Flynn? The terrorist you’ve been aiding and abetting? He’s here. With us.”

With that, Lucy felt the last of her hopes disappear into the darkness. With a choked gasp, she finally gave in, and started screaming again.

“No! Flynn! _Flynn!_ What are you doing to him? _Flynn!_”

“We’re not doing anything to him, my dear. As a matter of fact, we’ve come to an agreement.” God, Cahill sounded so smug.

“You’re lying! Garcia Flynn would never agree with you! About anything!” Lucy spat the words angrily at the door, and slammed a fist against it for good measure.

“I think you’ll find you’re wrong about that, my dear. He’d do anything to get his daughter back. Much like I promised him anything if he would deliver mine to me.”

***

Flynn was terrified.

It would’ve been different if it had been just him that had been captured. He would’ve been angry, or course, but he wouldn’t have been by any means frightened. There wasn’t anything more Rittenhouse could do to him. They could torture him in the most creative ways- it didn’t matter. They’d ruined him from the inside out long ago.

But he hadn’t been alone at the top of the steps. Lucy had been with him. The look on her face when Cahill had called her name and strolled up with his goons… Flynn would’ve thought it was her who had betrayed him, had it not been for the horror in her eyes. She had spun around when she heard her name, and then backed away from the approaching team… right against Flynn. Once there, Flynn thought she would startle, but she pressed back more, almost subconsciously.

She was looking for him to protect her.

And he couldn’t.

The team had descended just as he’d handed her the journal. He’d been so focused on making sure that she could get away, he hadn’t seen what had become of it. Considering his efforts were in vain, and Lucy was god knows where, it was safe to assume the journal was in enemy hands. And given what was in that journal…

With a growl that was muffled by his gag, Flynn took measure of his surroundings.

Small dark room, no windows, one door that was behind him. Both wrists were handcuffed to the arms of the metal chair, but his legs were free. The gag was far from comfortable, but it was a fabric- terry cloth, most likely a dish towel. So they hadn’t expected him to be quite so vocal. Flynn felt a small spark of amusement at the idea of inconveniencing Rittenhouse.

His amusement was quickly dashed when he heard Lucy screaming his name.

For what felt like hours- and in his present state, he had no way to judge time, and wasn’t that ironic?- Flynn struggled against the restraints, attempting to call out to Lucy all the while.

It was only once the screaming stopped that he finally snapped.

***

“He’s been lying to you dear…”

“No! You’re lying! You’re a _liar!”_

“I’ve read the journal. Do you have any idea what it says?”

“Shut up!”

“He’s obsessed with you…”

“Flynn!”

“… information…

_“Flynn!”_

“None of this would have happened if you…”

“That’s not true!”

“…your friends…”

“No!”

“…time…”

“No! _Flynn!”_

As Cahill went on and on, Lucy did her best to drown him out. At first, she had been screaming in pure terror, but when her biological father _just kept talking, _the screams had the added bonus of drowning out his lies.

At least, she hoped they were lies.

Even though they were _technically_ on different sides, Lucy trusted Flynn in a way she had never trusted anyone before… besides Amy. But she couldn’t go there right now, don’t think about Amy, don’t think about _Dad_, don’t think about him not really being…

Too late.

“…but really, an affair?”

Really? He was going _there_? Wait. He was going _there._

Despite herself, Lucy thought back to bits of Cahill’s ramblings she could make out through her own screams. Considering she had to pause long enough to get a decent lungful of air, that was more than she’d wanted to hear. He had said something about Flynn’s apparent obsession with her and the journal… oh. Oh no.

The journal.

Lucy felt like a pit had opened in her stomach. Rittenhouse had the journal.

Even though it had notes- her notes- about the past, it had somehow come to symbolize something else to Lucy. Flynn seemed to see it as hope for the future, and that was how she had started to view it as well. The more time she had spent with the man, the more Lucy realized why her future self had trusted him with such an important and intimate gift. She had her own suspicions about what that journal said, and she had planned to sit down and read through it, see if those inklings were correct, she had it _in her hand_ but Rittenhouse…

Rittenhouse had it now.

Was what Cahill saying true? Was Flynn lying to her? Tricking her? She didn’t think so, but Cahill seemed to think that her sudden silence was acceptance.

“I am sorry my dear. It pains me that you were so easily swayed,” he said, and Lucy could _hear_ the smugness.

Lucy opened her mouth, and started to tell her biological father what type of pain she’d rather cause him. Or rather, she tried to. All that screaming had ripped her throat to shreds, and even the barest croak _hurt._ Now that she focused on it, was that blood she tasted?

As Cahill stated to talk again, Lucy did her best to ignore him and gave an experimental cough. It was so dark in the closet, Lucy couldn’t tell if the liquid she caught in her hand was spit, blood, or a combination. It didn’t really matter, she supposed. Her voice was the one thing that she had left to use to fight Cahill’s lies. The rational part of her brain knew that he was probably trying to brainwash her. The emotional part was just _angry_. She had bypassed fear around the time he had started going on about her apparent weak-mindedness.

“Now, if you would just-” Cahill’s latest lie was cut off by a loud bang, followed by a sharp crack.

In the closet, Lucy sat up from her slump against the door. A tiny prickle of hope emerged. Had someone…?

“Lucy!” The harsh whisper was so familiar, so _welcomed_ that Lucy burst into silent tears. Unable to speak, she pounded her fist against the door. There was a scrabbling, and the door opened.

It was Flynn.

He knelt down instantly, and Lucy quickly looked him over. There was some blood on his white dress shirt, but it wasn’t too badly torn, it probably wasn’t his- a concept that should’ve frightened her. His usually neat hair was tousled with sweat, and there was a bruise blooming across his right cheekbone. His eyes were dark and wild and filled with an emotion she didn’t have a name for.

With a gasp, Lucy flung herself at him, burying her face against his damp neck. “You came,” she managed to choke out. She could feel his chest rumble as he answered.

“Of course I did. Are you alright?” Carefully, Flynn pulled back from the embrace and rested a hand on her cheek.

Lucy leaned into the touch, and was about to answer when she felt something heavy brush her shoulder. She glanced down, and a gasp ripped through her throat.

Handcuffs and what had to be part of a chair arm dangled from Flynn’s wrists. They were rubbed raw, and she was almost positive that his left index finger was broken. If the look in his eyes when he saw her hadn’t done it, than the visible proof of how hard he had fought to get to her erased any doubt in her mind that Cahill was lying.

Carefully, Lucy cradled his mangled hands in hers and pressed her lips to them. This time, Flynn was the one to gasp. Looking into his eyes, she knew that somehow, someway they would escape. They would be okay.


End file.
